


untidy souls

by waitfortheclick



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Child Sexual Abuse, Established Relationship, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Non Graphic, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:22:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26397109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waitfortheclick/pseuds/waitfortheclick
Summary: when poisons get too heavyknow thatcures arise – remedies appearthey come to mindthey appear at hand(Because they are nearby and thisis the way it has always been)- Thomas AshcraftNick talks to Greg about his past
Relationships: Greg Sanders/Nick Stokes
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16





	untidy souls

“It’s not that big of a deal.” That’s not true: It is a big deal, only -- “It happened a long time ago.”

Greg is frozen, mouth hanging slightly open, crease between his eyebrows, staring.

“I’m gonna get a beer,” Nick makes an awkward gesture, jerking a thumb over his shoulder, but the kitchen is the other way. He’s not going to apologise, even if he sort of did already. He’s not going to feel bad about it; except, when he gets back to the couch, Greg is so still.

He cracks the cap and tosses it on the coffee table. The sound startles Greg visibly. He tosses his head like shaking off cold water.

“No -- I mean. It is a big deal. You know that, right?”

Nick shrugs. The atmosphere had been so much lighter a minute ago; vaguely watching tv, his feet in Greg’s lap, Greg’s fingers stroking slightly ticklish over his bare ankles. Joking around, they started talking about sex, first times, and Nick had bit the bullet and admitted: “Nine.”

“Yeah, sure, but I ain’t saying it to make a big deal.” He’s much calmer than he’d expected to be.

“How did -- what -- why did you --” He’s all false starts, fast finishes.

Nick shrugs again. “I don’t know, just figured it’s a thing you should know.”

“No, not that, God, you can always tell me -- fuck. What happened? If you want to tell me. You don’t have to tell me.”

“Well.” He fiddles with the bottle opener, sets it down, picks it back up. “She was my babysitter.” How many siblings he had, his mama couldn’t have found someone, anyone else? She wasn’t even -- “Not my babysitter, my babysitter was on vacation in Corpus Christi.” It’s funny what you remember. “She was some neighborhood girl, I don’t know. She moved away almost right after.” How much had that sucked? He’d believed her for ages that it was his fault --  _ “Do you wanna do something fun? You can’t tell anyone or you’ll get in trouble.” _ \-- and then when he’d finally begun to think maybe it wasn’t, she’d already been gone for years. No confrontation, no closure, nothing. On top of everything, blaming himself for not being able to protect other kids from her, if only he’d said something. 

“She was 17.” He remembers being 17 and thinking, what if she changed him? Made him like her? It had made him sick. He couldn’t ever imagine wanting to do that to a kid. “Her name was Alyssa.” He doesn’t want to get specific but she smelled like fake cherries and her tongue felt huge and slimy in his mouth. “She said I was ‘such a cute kid’.”

“Jesus, Nick.” Greg looks like he’s going to be sick, and Nick feels a pang of regret. It must show on his face, because: “No, don’t, I’m glad you told me.”

He shouldn’t be glad, Nick thinks. He shouldn’t be glad Nick let this spread and touch and infect him. This revolting thing that has lived in his brain, under his skin, alongside him all his life. He drinks his beer.

“God, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. I should be --” Greg lurches forward, stops short. “Can I touch you?”

Nick nods. “Yeah, yeah, of course, man.” But Greg pulls back again, and Nick’s left gasping, dangling over the edge.

“No, fuck, sorry, I didn’t mean -- I just wanted you to know,” Greg stops, looks down at his hands clenched in his lap and takes a breath. “I’m not, you know, disgusted or anything. I mean I am. I’m disgusted by her. I’m just,” his fists squeeze tighter and shake. He closes his eyes and takes another deep breath. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this angry.”

Years ago Nick might have flinched, might have thought that anger directed at himself. “I know, man, I’m angry, too.” But he laughs, only slightly bitter. “Give me a fucking hug.” Because no matter what Greg thinks, no matter what he’s afraid of, Nick knows he won’t hurt him.

Greg gasps and pushes himself forward again. “I’m so sorry. I mean, fucking -- not that. Don’t tell me it’s OK, don’t make me feel better --” He’s babbling, but his arms are tight around Nick, so it’s OK, and Nick understands. Nick closes his eyes and smiles, only a little wet around the eyelashes.

“You don’t have to hold it together for me, OK? You have to know that.” Nick knows it, but he’s not, not really. “How are you so calm? You don’t have to be --” 

“I know, baby, I know.” Because he does know. He laughs. “It’s taken a lot of therapy to get to this point.” His therapist would be so proud, too, not for how he’s holding it together but for the fact of having told Greg.

Greg shoves his face into his neck. “You hate therapy.” He sounds miserable.

Nick laughs again. “Why do you think I hate it? It’s not fun, Greggo.” He kisses the top of his head. “It’s hard work.” 

“Do you want to talk about it? Oh God -- did I do something? To remind you?”

“Nah. Never. It was such a… it was a unique experience.” He hasn’t even been reminded of it with girlfriends, not really, but it took him a while before he stopped thinking a certain way. Thinking about sex as something people need, something you do to keep them happy.  _ “Come on, Nick, you’re just so sexy.” _

He remembers telling his first girlfriend at 15 -- still so young, he thinks now, and he hadn’t made the first move, had sort of just gone along with things because he figured she knew better at 17 -- and the look on her face of utter disgust. It had taken years before he could see it as anything other than for him alone. “It pops into my head from time to time, but you’ve never made me feel like that.” That small and alone and helpless. 

Greg eases back, hands gripping Nick’s sides like he can’t let go. “I don’t even think about it that much anymore. I mean I do, but.” But it doesn’t dominate his life like it used to. Greg suddenly looks curious. Nick lets out a soft laugh. “What?” 

“I was just wondering, is that why you became a CSI?”

Nick shrugs. “It’s sort of why I became a cop, sure. My older sister became one and she seemed so brave to me. Like nothing could hurt her. But it wasn’t… it didn’t make me feel like that.”

“What do you mean?” Greg’s hands migrate to stroke his upper arms, soothe the muscles he hadn’t realised were so tight.

“I guess I just realized it wasn’t something the right job could help. That it wasn’t just going to get better on its own.” Greg nods, and Nick knows he understands because it’s written all over his face, still so unable to hide how he’s feeling.

“Is there anything I can do? Right now?”

Yeah, he thinks, just do what you always do. Be the person you always are. Nick half smiles softly. He lifts a hand to trace a path between the moles --  _ “Beauty marks, Nick.” _ \-- on Greg’s cheek. “Sure,” he says. “You can watch tv with me.” 

Greg smiles back, turns his face a little into Nick’s palm. “I think I can manage that.” 

**Author's Note:**

> There are so many fics like this. Here, have another. Thank you to my editor, ASheepsLife!!
> 
> Title from Bride of Ice by Marina Tsvetaeva.


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